


After the Alamo

by fupette



Category: Yellowstone (TV 2018)
Genre: Coercion, Emotional Manipulation, Family Drama, Hurt, Kidnapping, Manipulation, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Pain, Power Dynamics, Psychological Trauma, Swearing, Threats of Violence, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-21
Updated: 2020-08-24
Packaged: 2021-03-06 23:14:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 5,857
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26027059
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fupette/pseuds/fupette
Summary: Beth finds herself trapped in the orbit of the CEO of Market Equities, a bona-fide champion who believes in the maxim that the winner gets to takes it all. With her winning ways she always gets what she wants and who she wants, by hook or by crook.
Kudos: 3





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> English is my first language, all spellings and grammar issues are my own mistakes. My Irish spellings might annoy readers and I’m also guilty of over generous use of punctuation (mostly badly deployed). 
> 
> Looking at the subject matter of my first few stories, they tend to cover dark subject matters, I try to stay clear of being gratuitously violent but I use this warning tag out of an abundance of caution, as violence and threats are traded within this story. Along with violence and manipulation, swearing occurs too, personally I think the first two points are more objectionable than the latter but if you already watch the show, I don’t think my coarse language will offend.
> 
> I enjoy Market Equities boss, Willa as a total bad-ass character, especially her tête-à-tête with Beth. I’m not sure how the TV show is going to progress with the storyline in the close-out of season 3, so this story is firmly AU, set about a year after the Dutton family losing ownership of their land, but being employed to continue their stewardship of the land. 
> 
> As I’m not a person of colour or a minority, I’m mindful that Willa is painted as a ‘baddie’ in my story and an antagonist on the TV show. I hope my story does not offend anybody (although the subject matter is a little mature) and I will happily take feedback and advise from people whose outlook and experience are different to my own.

Willa stood self-satisfied, after completing a slow languorous circuit around her houseguest, reminiscent of a predator stalking its prey. She smiled broadly at the sight before her, “You may look at me” she said sweetly in her honeyed tone. Surprised by the command, Beth reflexively looked at the woman towering over her. Their eye contact was brief but Willa could sense the defiance that still simmered beneath the surface of Beth’s weary demeanour. Willa mused about how she enjoyed Beth’s wilful behaviour, or more to the point, punishing Beth’s wilful behaviour. After a year under her watchful tutelage, Willa was satisfied that all her hard work was paying off, but she wasn’t finished moulding Beth to her liking yet. The threat of violence was a partially effective tool, but in truth the precarious legal footing of her father’s ranch proved an effective leverage to moderate her charge’s most recalcitrant behaviour. When Willa felt especially cruel she liked to needle Beth about her former beau Rip and the secrets she learned from Walker, this always proved to be an efficient way of ensuring her protege’s complete compliance, the threat of pointing law enforcement in Rip's direction would easily mollify any wilfulness. 

Willa thought about how easy it was to control the other members of her current coterie, Roarke was her earliest conquest; selfish self-absorbed. Jamie was her easiest acquisition, a particularly noxious mixture of vanity and greed. Both men proved to be pliant and useful idiots, maybe it was a male trait but money and flattery proved easy mechanisms to keep them both in-line. Beth was the true prize, despite a year in near total isolation she could still challenge her mistress. Her defiance and rough edges allowed Willa to keep her own skills sharp. While Beth bristled at the “special attention” lavished on her, Willa revelled in the power and control of their current dynamic. Today was no different, in fact, as always Willa had prepared meticulously for her current plan.


	2. Chapter 2

“Follow me”, Willa commanded. Beth stopped her nervous fidgeting and demurely rose to her feet, following as commanded, keeping her tired eyes downcast. After two days of solitary confinement, Beth felt particularly stir-crazy and worried that she wouldn’t be able to keep her angry emotions under control. Despite the odd weariness that persisted with her throughout the morning, she could summon enough self-protective energy to follow orders. “I was wondering did you miss me?” Willa enquired while setting a brisk pace out of Beth’s sparse room into her wider compound. “I should apologise, that I haven’t been able to spend anytime with you recently” she cast a glance over her shoulder not breaking her stride to accommodate Beth’s sluggish attempt at shadowing her , “as I’m sure you can imagine, things are very busy for me at the moment”. Even in her weakened state Beth could see the trap before it was laid, Willa had previously taken great pleasure in reminding her that the renewal of the informal agreement protecting her father’s ranch was coming up imminently, as Willa’s de facto hostage, she knew she had to try doubly hard to be on her best behaviour and not rise to her captor’s bait in order to best protect her family. 

Beth hated the charade that she was forced to play but after days of boredom and loneliness Willa’s mind-games at least broke the previous monotony. “Thank you” Beth murmured not fully feeling the sentiment. Willa smiled her cheshire cat grin, complimenting her ward’s good manners, having arrived at her intended destination, she took her seat swiftly at her office desk, smugly noting Beth’s hesitation about where to situate herself now that she was unable to trace her mistress footsteps. A click of her fingers and the beckoning gesture of Willa’s manicured finger told Beth she was expected to kneel by her jailor’s side. Bitter experience had taught Beth that she should comply quickly with these humiliating orders and also not dare to interrupt her mistress while she worked. 

Willa reviewed her spreadsheet on each of her charges, her tracking bracelets providing her with a panoply of useful information. She casual glanced at the boys metrics, not needing to review the GPS data, as they were safely ensconced in her Montana home. She switched over to Beth’s information, happy to dissect the various data-points. The exercise and nutrition data were ideal, this pleased her greatly as it indicated that Beth had adhered nicely to the diet and gym plan she had set out, even when she was left alone for the past few days. “Hmmm, Little Bitch” Willa whispered with a deep affection, reaching her hand to lightly stroke red hair, her fingers expertly massaging Beth’s scalp. 

As a stickler for compliance Willa reviewed Beth’s heart rate, noting that the numbers were acceptable on average over this week, she noted with satisfaction there wasn’t any wild spikes indicating stress or fierce emotions, could this mean she was finally wearing down Beth’s tough resistance? She smiled at the little heart rate spike that she could track currently. Depriving Beth of all company for the past few days was having some fringe benefits, she seemed extra responsive to small touches today. Willa mentally filed away this useful tidbit of information.

“Don’t stop” a small voice pleaded below her, indicating a chink in Beth’s protective walls. Willa found it endlessly endearing that her little Beth struggled with any act of kindness, seeming to only be comfortable with tough love and recriminations. Willa thought ruefully how the younger woman’s mother had clearly done irreparable damage on her daughter’s psyche, she could use Mommy issues to her own advantage. But first, Willa intended to exploit lavishly this current admission of weakness, allowing Beth to rest her head fully on her lap redoubling all efforts on the massage, “That’s it”, Willa encouraged, seeding a small morsel of praise to her unusually receptive captive, “Good girl, just let go”. 

A complicated knot of emotion twisted in Beth’s stomach, her rational-self knew she should not be enjoying this attention, after a year in Willa’s presence she knew the older woman could find and exploit opportunity like a shark could sense blood.


	3. Chapter 3

Willa’s next instructions did not fully penetrate the haze of tired pleasure in Beth’s mind, she felt gifted hands manipulating her back to her a fully kneeling position, while guiding her head upwards, to view Willa from beneath the canopy of her fringe. Willa smiled indulgently, she could plainly see Beth’s drowsiness was nearly overpowering her captive. She didn’t need to consult the her heart-rate readings to know that the medicine crushed up in her morning smoothie was actively lulling her into the thrall of a fully dazed stupor. As if dealing with a naughty puppy, Willa forcefully reiterated to Beth that she should stay put and not move a muscle. In her current spaced out state, Beth was not capable of independent thought or actions, in her tiredness she simply rocked back on her heels waiting for the next set of directions, fiddling with her bracelet idly.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

The chauffeur ride to the airport was uneventful, Willa had wrangled the pliant Beth into the waiting car, she enjoyed the way her tired companion snuggled close to her for the duration of the journey. In the companionable silence, Willa played with a loose wisp of red hair, reflecting that the drugs had given her an unfair advantage today. She had been planning to reunite her acolytes under one roof in Montana for over a month, this was the easiest way to make it happen, bypassing the need to punish any uncooperative misbehaviour from Beth and remove any misguided opportunity for escape attempts. 

She allowed her support staff to usher her young charge into her monogrammed Lil’ B seat, her own attention directed at the loading of her large array of luggage onto the privet jet’s cargo hold. Once completed, she relayed instructions to the on-board chef for her lunch preferences, the flight attendant helpfully taking her bag, while directing her to take the main seat, across from her resting associate. She would get some last minute work done on the flight, which would effectively clear up her schedule to spend quality time with her minions for the weekend. 

Willa’s eyes roved over her favourite pet while she enjoyed her egg white omelette, her appraising eye caught the slow twilight of sleep play out on the resting face in front of her. She could see the tenuous grasp of slumber was slipping as a slow tension creeped back into Beth’s restless form. “Lil’ Bitch”, the use of this appellation flits Beth’s attention back to her present circumstances, a confused flinch crosses her features as she sluggishly pieces together her predicament, thinking about how the fuck did she get on the plane and where the fuck were they headed? Beth left the question unvoiced knowing that any question or attempt to speak in public could be cause for punishment later. 

A sharp clearing of her mistress’s throat and a proffered straw hovering close to her parched lips made Willa's intentions clear. Instinctively Beth took a few disinterested sips of the bland smoothie in front of her. In her days of isolation, Beth had been surviving off these bland concoctions out of necessity, her hungry stomach growled for something more substantial, unbidden her mind recalls lazy home-cooked meals with Rip or Gator’s alcohol spiked smoothies, she hates Willa for stealing her away from her family into this half-life travesty. Regardless of her current drugged stupor Beth was savvy enough to know that her last drink had been spiked with something that made her sickeningly compliant and tired, she briefly considered refusing the current drink on the grounds that it was no doubt designed to similarly chemically incapacitate her or worse .

Willa could see a brief flare of rebellion cross Beth’s features before her captive had a chance to fully school her expression into its normal neutral mask, the drugs were working their magic still, dulling Beth’s normally quick reaction times. “Drink up, Lil’ B” urged Willa, not willing to brook any brief defiance in thought or actions. “Come on, just a little bit more”, Willa guided her charge to finish the drugged smoothie with the platitudes of good girl ringing hollowly in her captive’s ear. Willa pushed tendrils of light hair back to allow her full access to her pet’s open face, to better gauge the new drug’s progress. 

She was impressed with the sedative’s speed and effectiveness, this was a cruder instrument than the earlier medicine, but nevertheless it was something good to keep in Willa’s arsenal, as her travel companion crumpled bonelessly back into the airline seat. Willa needed her pet to rest, although the owners of private jets were rarely bothered, she didn’t need someone as whip-smart as Beth to cause problems on their arrival in Montana. She covered the sleeping form with a warm blanket, using considerable self-control to not re-indulge in the sleeping arrangements from the earlier car journey and allow herself to cradle Beth in her own warmth, her chauffeur could be trusted, she couldn’t be sure of the unwavering loyalty of the staff on the plane. Her iron self control allowed her to regretfully turn her attention back to her laptop forcing herself to finalise her dinner plans.


	4. Chapter 4

Beth woke in a strange room, not fully recharged after her drug enforced slumber. Although it had been over a year since she had slept beneath her father’s roof, her current room was an eerie facsimile of her former refuge. Small details like her favourite perfume and her Mom’s stitched blanked gave the room some verisimilitude, although a number of differences stood in jarring juxtaposition to the otherwise homely scene. She looked at her plain white dress, not something she would typically wear, thinking back to a time when she had the luxury of choices, not wanting to dwell on the how and the who of her clothes change. Continuing her investigation, she could see one of the hated sensor points for her bracelet mounted high on the wall and a couple of other inaccuracies in the room, the most galling update was the replacement of a family portrait with a different group arrayed around the ever powerful Willa, the picture’s focal point in the centre-frame, the epitome of ice-cool calm; one smiling blonde man to her right, standing shoulder to shoulder with a grinning black haired man, Beth’s own inscrutable face peered out from the left hand side. Unconsciously she rubbed her braceleted hand, recalling the phantom pains from the day of the photograph, back when she was braver and more liberal with her open defiance. _Could that picture have really been six months ago?_ , it was hard to tell. Willa kept her in an informational vacuum, no news; no phone; no unsupervised contact with the outside world.

Beth reverie was interrupted by a staccato vibration of her bracelet alerting her that Willa required her attention. She could see the previously red bar on her bracelet, change to green which gave her the tacit approval to move freely in the house. As she explored, she recognised the fundamentals of Dan Jenkin’s old home, but Willa’s interior decorators had only accentuated the clinical feel of the house, modernist surfaces and large windows; each immaculate element reeked of money but missed the mark totally for homeliness and comfort. 

After her brief wandering, Beth located Willa in the home office, from the open doorway she could see Roarke and Willa talking strategy as they discussed the contents of the computer screen. Beth longed to engage in any intellectual pursuit, the drudgery of her former life of reviewing the facts and figure seemed impossibly interesting after long months of torpid isolation. She waited by the door lintel waiting for permission to enter, she did not want to give Willa an excuse to use the shock function on her bracelet tracker. 

Willa clicked her fingers and indicated that Beth could enter the study, she could feel Roarke’s hungry eyes on her but her own attention was focused on her own surroundings. She noted briefly they were both dressed in white, like some weird fucking cult, Willa was still regally attired in her power dress, the fresh burst of colour underscoring her preeminent role in the house, Beth racked her brain trying to remember if this was a new outfit, which might indicate another forgettable day had passed.

With a gesture of her mistress’s finger, Beth sat on her designated cushion. The stylised 'B', indicating her place, while Roarke casually sat on a cushion to her left. The empty 'J' cushion, indicated she’d lamentably be seeing her detested brother at some stage. Beth fought to keep her composure, she couldn’t remember the last time she was surrounded by as many familiar faces. Willa smiled sweetly at her wards, “As ye know we have the big dinner tonight”, Willa gave a beneficent look in Beth’s direction and smilingly announced, “Us girls, will have our necessary appointments this afternoon”. The smile curdled to a frown when she turned her attention to the grinning Roarke, “Now, I need to close the Rainwater deal, apparently this was beyond the meagre capability of Roarke and Jamie. In fact your gormless brother is running late with the paperwork”. Beth could sense the worried fidget from her fellow captive and she felt her own ripple of nervousness, she knew that an angry Willa was a dangerous and vengeful beast, she did not want to be the poor sap who tried her already tested patience.

Roarke was called back into action taking his subordinated place at the smaller side desk, logging onto his laptop deftly. Beth remained seated on her pillow where Willa presented her with one of her most hated items, a pair of noise cancelling headphones. In a performative gesture, Willa crowned Beth’s head ensuring her ears where cupped securely in their plastic prison, taking advantage of their close proximity to place a belittling chaste kiss on top of her pet’s head. The insidiousness of the headphones was the white noise they pumped out, it robbed Beth of much longed for intellectual stimulation, keeping her isolated and further parring down her already narrow world by stealing one of her sense. Beth remembered the painful electric shocks administered when the headphones were introduced against her futile protests, luckily today there was no suggestion that her blindfold was to be added. A cowed Beth did not want to tempt fate, she kept her eyes down studying the jewellery manacled to her wrist, for fear of inviting Willa to spitefully inflict further restrictions, being deaf to the world in the presence of others was already a cruel punishment.

In her silent boredom, Beth obsessed over the breadcrumbs of information that Willa had laid out, there was going to be a dinner and presumably if there was preparations and appointments that needed to be endured, this was going to be some hoity-toity affair. Jamie’s apparent absence from the house signposted that he was clearly allowed significant leeway in his movements and freedoms. The mention of the Rainwater deal was ominous, Beth mulled over the possibilities, even a year removed from the wheeling and dealing of land in Montana, any further land consolidation by Market Equities boded ill for her father and no doubt lucrative for Willa.

Willa’s annoyance at her two male underlings was tempered by satisfaction in Beth’s continued good behaviour, yesterday morning’s performance was very much aided by pharmacological magic. The current compliance was hard won on the back of Willa’s dedication to training, she mused how she had fewer and fewer causes to use the shock function on her favourite pet’s bracelet. With a few keystrokes on her computer she was back reviewing Beth’s metrics to confirm this hunch, she frowned when her attention was drawn to the fact her Lil B’s last ‘meal’ was the small smoothie in the airplane. Her warm feelings towards Beth did not extend to lifting her restrictive dietary plan, she would order Beth a customary bland smoothie, apart from the scheduled dinner real food wasn’t a privilege that Beth had earned back yet. The only concession to recognise her good behaviour was Willa’s own considerably more delicious meal would be consumed at the dining table, a working lunch with Roarke, the sight, smell and sounds of the delicious spread would be hidden from an under-stimulated Beth. 

Beth sat bored, oblivious to Willa’s machinations, she could tell Roarke had left the room, when she spied a pair of white trousers passing by her peripheral vision. A quick shock from her bracelet drew Beth’s attention directly to Willa, who was offering her a smoothie, a cocked quizzical eyebrow from Beth was responded with another admonishing shock to her sore wrist. It was clear Willa was purposely laying down the law. Willa kinked her head and mimed a tapping gesture on her wrist. Beth’s heart sank, she glanced down at her bracelet, shit a black bar, no moving from her current spot without reaping the pain of more electric shocks. Beth seethed in silence as her mistress left the room, galled that she couldn’t use this private time to poke around the lonely office. She supped forlornly on her tasteless gruel drink wondering what the rest of the day had in store for her.


	5. Chapter 5

Sitting in bored silence Beth never saw the blow coming, only feeling the pain but not hearing the connecting blow. As she was caught unaware she couldn’t protect herself from the initial strike or brace herself from the resulting fall, her head connecting painfully with Willa’s desk followed by the secondary impact on the wet smoothie-soaked floor. “Motherfucker” Beth’s cry of indignation turned into a howl of pain, as the evil electric shock function of her bracelet sprang to life due to the flurry of unexpected movement. The pain was excruciating but Beth could not let her brother's attack pass without some payback. Jamie could always illicit the most self-destructive emotions in her, she wildly swung for his smug face. Instead of revenge, the continuing electric shocks left Beth flailing on the ground having misjudged her reach due to the escalating intensity and duration of the succession of thundering bolts of pain emanating from her bracelet. She saw rather than felt the sickening gush of blood from her nose adding to the liquid mess in the previously pristine office. All she could feel were the electric jolts washing over her in torrents of lightening pain, as Beth struggled to regain her feet, still determined to inflict some damage on Jamie, regardless of the cost to her own health. The devious bastard was hunkering backwards putting an increasing amount of space between himself and his victim, knowing that the electric shocks would continue to escalate unless Beth retreated to her original spot. 

Beth’s head was pounding and her wrist felt like it was on fire, but months of pent up festered anger fuelled her forward with a myopic focus on Jamie, her motions laboured like a punch-drunk boxer. _She would make him feel pain, even if it killed her trying_. It took her slow mind a few seconds to register the electric shocks had suddenly stopped. Willa had enveloped the red-head in her arms, easing her twitching body to a clean spot on the cold floor, Roarke made similar, less gentle actions, wrestling Jamie to the ground.  
Beth could sense rather than hear Willa’s anger, she assumed that her captor was shouting as she watched Jamie's features flinch in time to each rough exhalation from the cushioning body behind her. She could see Jamie’s body language change into ‘lawyer-mode’, she couldn’t lip-read his weasel words but a life-time of personal experience told her he was going to lie, cheat and finagle his way out of trouble. The conversation continued around the oblivious Beth, her headphones still blocking out all sound, but she could tell that Jamie was getting increasingly agitated, good she thought, he had attacked her unprovoked. She followed the path of Jamie’s gaze to her wrist, knowing that he was processing Willa’s arguments, as her sore limb was presented outwards the black bar facing her brother. She watched realisation dawn in Jamie’s eyes, followed by his quick cataloguing of his sister's injuries, readying himself for his next round of excuses, but they never came. Jamie’s face contorted as he cradled his own hand in agony. Beth intuited from Jamie’s response that he was getting some impromptu shock therapy from Willa, the strap of his watch offering the same controlling functions as Beth’s accursed bracelet.

The sound of Jamie’s whimpers was sweet music to Beth’s ears when Willa finally freed her female captive from the damnable headphones. She had been concentrating on Roarke’s manner as Jamie remained in a quivering ball on the floor. She was nervous about the conversation that passed between Willa and her right hand man, before she was liberated from the headphone's silence. When she tore her distrustful gaze from her brother to make brief eye contact with Roarke’s she noted his expression had changed to a hungry smile. Was that a reaction to her or a reaction to Jamie’s pain?, Beth couldn’t tell. 

She watched the blonde captive respond to a gesture from his mistress with a nod before he hauled Jamie upright. Willa’s following words were delivered in a cold fury to her prisoners, “She’s mine, no one gets to touch her”, her point was punctuated with Jamie’s pained expression confirming he had been electro-shocked again to hammer home Willa's inviolable law.

“Do you understand?” Willa’s cold voice rose for the first time. After her spell in silence Beth was particularly sensitive to the increased volume but watched both men nod their vigorous assent.

“She is off-limits... No one gets to lay a finger on her”, Willa’s reiterated words were still laced with fury. “Also you don’t get to letch at her” This time Roarke’s previous lascivious look contorted into a pained expression, he clearly was not immune to Willa’s ire either. “She is mine.“ Willa’s final statement was a command that was reinforced by a double whammy of electric shocks inflicted on Beth’s fellow captives. The pleasure she would have felt at Jamie’s pain turned to stone cold dread, at that moment she felt horribly and inexorably owned.


	6. Chapter 6

Willa bundled the dishevelled Beth into her own private quarters, she disappeared briefly out the door, returning with a first-aid kit, clothes, towels and sundry supplies. Beth was surprised that her tracker bracelet was removed without comment, Willa dealing with the locking mechanism with her trademark efficiency. In an almost caring gesture she guided Beth’s free arm to cradle the icepack pressed to her wrist. Willa then placed the bracelet and unlocking tool on her dresser an ever present reminder of the older woman's power. 

She cast an appraising glance towards her injured prisoner, “Your brother is a fucking idiot”, Willa continued rummaging around the first aid kit. “Aaaadopted”, Beth winced hearing how feeble her hoarse voice sounded from disuse. Willa smiled benignly, the downside of isolating Beth had meant she had deprived herself of this witty repartee. Due to Beth’s injuries her captor concentrated on triage rather than conversation. She noted that Beth was thinking and speaking coherently, likewise her pupils where equal and she had successfully tracked her would-be doctor’s progress back to the bed she was perched on. After confirming no immediate signs of head injury, Willa focused on Beth’s bloody nose. She reached for the wet washcloth, “Stay still”, the harsh words were in stark contrast to Willa’s delicate touch, holding Beth’s chin upwards, the other hand washing away the congealed blood with soft gentle strokes. “This will sting”. Willa half-apologetic announcement was coupled by a firmer grip on her ward’s chin, tilting it downwards for better access to the small hairline cut. The smell of iodine hung pungent in the air, Beth was forced to surveyed the bloody red runnels on her previously pristine dress with a detached disinterest, she’d learned many valuable lessons today, there was a neat device that could quickly take off the control bracelets, her fellow captives had their own compliance jeweller too, perhaps most intriguingly Willa’s room did not appear to have a bracelet sensor. 

In the companionable silence Willa ruminated on her options for later. Tonight’s dinner would of course need to go ahead but she would cancel the hair and make-up appointments, at the moment they seemed like a pointless distraction, especially as she cleaned Beth’s cuts. Due to the attack, Jamie was no longer on the guest list for the dinner, in fact in her current charitable mood she would cut the list of attendees further, tonight could be kept personal while dealing with the needed business element. After mentally finalising her plans, she knew she needed to dole out Jamie's punishment now that her ministrations of first aid were complete. She thought how the white bar restriction had tormented Beth previously, alone in a room with no interactions with the outside world, she was sure her brother would cope even worse, he lacked Beth’s toughness and self-sacrifice. As Willa left the room to visit Jamie, she commanded Beth to stay and rest informing her she would be back in a few minutes.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * 

Beth waited a minutes before giving way to temptation, nervously exploring Willa’s room, trying to gleam some further insights into her jailor. A brief check on the en-suite and wardrobe told her nothing, other than reinforcing the fact that Willa had exquisitely expensive tastes. Depressingly she found nothing overtly useful, she seated herself back on the bed awaiting her mistress's return, disheartened and dishevelled, the icepack melting a wet puddle into her already ruined smoothie streaked dress.

When Willa returned she brought a peace offering of tea and toast, uncharacteristically allowing Beth to serve herself real food and have a modicum of choice. Willa busied herself in the bathroom, as Beth tried to savour the rare treat, buttering the bread and debating if she’d add marmalade. Willa casually tossed a bathrobe on the bed, “I’m going to clean-up first; you can have the bathroom next”; she peered round the door to deliver her warning, “Do not abuse my hospitality, I’m in no mood for another misbehaving Dutton, you can sit and read until I’m ready for you, in the meantime you can use the bathrobe, there is no point in getting pneumonia”. After weeks of monotony Beth’s head nearly exploded with overstimulation, real food and the semblance of privacy to read a book while lounging on a bed, this would have been beyond her wildest dreams earlier today. Now cocooned in the fluffy comfort of the bathrobe, she almost felt human again. A nagging voice in the back of her head warned her that these acts of small mercies where only meagre distractions, but to the comfort-starved Beth they were sorely welcome distractions.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * 

Once Beth had finished her shower she returned to the bedroom to see Willa (ever the overachiever) was dressed and ready for tonight’s dinner, everything perfectly coiffed and manicured, relaxing with a matching cup of tea, leafing through the abandoned book as she waited for her young charge. Beth made quick work drying her own hair, looking for her missing hair-tie, only to be met by Willa’s shaking head decreeing she wanted her hair to remain down. She presented Beth with her outfit for tonight, the green dress was demure but an improvement on the white cult-like garb, as always no underclothes were offered. Beth quickly changed, noting that unlike Willa’s power heels she was given sensible flat shoes, giving her captor a distinct height advantage. Willa put a possessive hand on Beth’s wrist locking the tracking bracelet with a fatalistic twist, forcing Beth back under her complete control. 

“Remember polite little girls should be seen and not heard”. The belittling words, stuck in Beth’d craw but she was too exhausted to fight back. The red bar flashed on her bracelet, she had 2 minutes to find and stay in a room of Willa’s choosing or remain within the safe perimeter of 2 feet from her mistress. Beth had a sick feeling in her stomach about the purpose of the dinner, it was uncharacteristic of Willa to allow her the benefit of other people's company. She knew there was the a reason she was back in Montana and an explanation why she was all dolled up. Despite mentally preparing herself for the worst, the reality of coming face-to-face with her father, felt worse than Jamie’s earlier sucker punch. She had watched Roarke, with a green bar bracelet, engage her father and the governor in some stupid banter, it felt like yet another betrayal. All eyes turned to Willa as she made her regale presence known by clearing her throat, behind her she was shadowed demurely by her youngest captive. Willa bid the assembly into the dining room now that the uneasy small-talk had completely dried up, John Dutton lost the will to continue his chat after seeing his only daughter.

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The food was perfect, immaculate in presentation and taste. Beth struggles with each bite, the ominous sick feeling in her stomach was debilitating. She can’t fully place the last meal she has had that required cutlery, she lets her attention focus on her plate rather than the dinner guests, it was painful to be physically close but yet so far away from her father. Governor Perry has the good grace to enquiry about her missing hostage Jamie. Willa smiles assuring the public official she will see him Monday morning and he will be motivated to adhere to the Governor’s agenda one hundred percent, unspoken is the fact Willa no longer needs Jamie to covertly obstruct Montana state business. She has won, she has everything she wanted from this deal. An uncomfortable silence, descends on the dinner table as the main course is completed. Willa and Roarke talk shop while the other uncomfortable dinner guests wait for dessert and to escape the formalities of the meal. Starved for outside information Beth’s attention is rapt on the vagaries of the marketplace, only noticing the sleight of her absent dessert when Willa invites her fellow table-mates to all to tuck in. It was a tactical masterstroke by Willa, both a display of power and a mechanism for identifying open dissent. Unsurprisingly Roarke wolfed down his sweet treat, complimenting the chef with hums of deliciousness. Governor Perry picks politely at the sugary confection, the tokenism of her petite bites could be read as reluctant but Beth wasn’t fully sure if the hesitance showed pity that extended to herself or to her father. Willa waits for the elder Dutton to start his dessert, seeing if he would protest Beth’s lack of dessert. It took a tense minute but Beth watched him swallow his pride with the first bite and mechanically consumed the rest of the dessert. Willa smiled at her triumph, offering Beth the final spoonful of her own dessert, as a coup de grâce. In a show of her own compliance Beth, quickly swallowed the cloying sweetness with no outward emotion, eschewing the pitying look from Willa's dinner guests.

Roarke ushered her father towards Willa’s office for an aperitif before they would finally complete their outstanding paperwork. Beth was sure the meal was just pageantry for the main event, resigning the yearly leasing contract, no doubt Willa enjoying this victory lap but wanting to put the Duttons in their inferior place. It was one thing to think her father loved his land more than he loved his family, it was an entirely higher magnitude of pain to know that her father was prepared to codify this preference in legal documents. Having killed the one person her father loved (her mother), she could not rob him of the remaining thing he loved, even if it meant pain and humiliation for herself. A little pity blossomed in her heart, her father would rather be a poor and lonely man with his land, instead of a rich man with his family. She would pray tonight to a god she didn’t believe in, that Monica would rescue Tate and Kayce from the Yellowstone Ranch’s toxic orbit. 

Lost in her private revery, she didn’t notice that Willa had hung back and enveloped the stoic Beth is a tight hug, “He is incapable of love. Stay here with me where you are wanted and cared for”. Willa’s whispered words breached Beth’s tough exterior, she knew she didn’t really have a choice but the weak part of her mind craved any sort of comfort after her long isolation; after the charade of tonight’s dinner she was thankful that someone was talking to her, acknowledging her existence. She had been forced to trade her life as her father’s attack dog, to a life as Willa’s lapdog. Wrapped now in Willa’s arms she felt owned, as if Willa had branded her with a stylised W over her heart.


End file.
